Today for the author's note, I have a special guest- everyone say hello to the one and only Beast! (Rumbling growls are heard.) But- um, yeah, he's not the only guest today in the author's note, because we also have the beautiful Raven! (A firm glare quells any further complimentary titles.) They've cooperated wonderfully to produce the chapter, and- guys, you could have kept your paws off each other for just- I give up. They're holding hands, that's all, just to clarify for people with sick minds. I was going to send Beast after people who try flaming the pairing, but Raven has graciously volunteered- and she also told me to get on with the story. Since she's my leading lady, I guess I have to-
Hello. This is Raven. We're done with the trivial nonsense of an author's notes, and Beast and I are going back to the story. If you flame the pairing, I'll send you straight to Lynch. Understood? Thank you.
By the way- enjoy the chapter.
Chapter Three: Fairy Godmothers Need Not Apply
Raven found the small box by chance. It was wedged tightly in the ruins of what could have been a library, in a crevice that had also held a novel old enough to have hand-illustrated inside covers. She considered the small jewelry box before setting it back. There was only one problem- the wreckage in that area of the decimated room no longer would fit the box, and a touch of force with black magic only sent the box to the floor. The heart-shaped lid rolled away, and the mirror that had been inside the lid splintered into fragments.
The box was mangled after years of being in damp storage, but the contents were undamaged. Raven carefully removed a small portrait from it. She stared at the painting inside, trying to guess why such a beauty's smile wouldn't reach blue eyes. Glancing at the waist, Raven guessed that corsets had deprived yet another girl from oxygen. Raven could learn nothing from the likeness: she flipped over the painting.
The inscription caught her eye. The writing was small and written in a reckless hurry, but even after the years, the ink stayed in the gold backing. To my beast, it read. I promised to stay forever, but promises are fragile things- and sometimes forever doesn't last.
Raven was considering where she could put the small portrait away when she heard a heavy breath. She whirled, trying to prepare herself for any reaction. At the look on Beast's face, she dropped the miniature. A lock of palest blonde hair fell to the ground more slowly, catching in the air.
"Beast?" she whispered. He didn't look angry. She wished he would be mad, that she had found the last trace of someone who had forgotten a promise. She knew how to bring him away from anger, but she never had seen him look so blank. He backed away from her, or maybe from the picture at her feet. She knew she couldn't chase him. "Beast," she said again, wondering why her voice choked. The blue-eyed stranger hadn't hurt her.
He shook his head, but this motion wasn't human. Raven knew that motion, a predator's death-shake to kill prey quickly. "Beast!" It was too late, even as she yelled. He retreated again, across the hall. When he was in the middle of the conservatory, he needed only to begin running. All the windows in the room were gone, as if someone had beaten out the last fragments. She watched him lope into the forest, and knew that he wouldn't welcome her company. Raven only wished that she knew exactly why he was so upset.
She knew that he didn't want company. If he had left her to run in the forest, he wished to be alone. Beast had no second motives. If he wanted to be around her, he would make the approach. She paced the border of the forest- patience was a trying thing.
He watched her. She kept turning to the forest and listening, but didn't think to look above her. He didn't make noise, not yet. He had to forget past fury. He had made himself forget the word-sound that meant the pale-hair girl. He waited even after Raven had left, keeping the memory of her calls singing in his ears. She had wanted him to come back. If he remembered her voice, he forgot old talks.
She was in the tree-place, asleep with a soft lip-curve smile at a night-dream. He wanted to go to be with her, but something was not-right. He needed to find what was wrong. He prowled to the front of his castle-house, as Raven's paper-leaf books called such places. There was no need to wake Raven. He would keep her not-hurt- safe.
He found the front doors all-open. Someone had come inside while he watched Raven. He sniffed the air in deep whuffs. Three people were inside his castle-house, two males and a not-right female. Her scent was strange, but made tracking the three easy. Their scent-trail led to Raven's room. They were in her den. A rumbling growl started in his throat.
A male ran from Raven's den, shouting. Beast heard 'Raven' mentioned. The short male should not say her name so angrily. He threw the small man across the room, and slashed at the large man that followed yelling of red-belly birds. Beast snarled when 'robin' was shouted along with nonsense. He could beat the two males. They threatened his Raven, and he would fight. The odd-smelling female flew at him lit with green fire, reeking of anger and hot-rage.
Beast fell back at the blasts of green fire-light, and drew close to the smaller man. The bird-man had a shining stick, and it hurt claws. He couldn't slice the weapon into lesser dangers. The large man's hand was gone, replaced by a blue weapon-stick.
Beast knew the three fighters could beat him, but he couldn't let them find Raven. They still shouted angrily about 'ate' and 'Raven.' No one would eat his Raven. The girl shot light at his eyes, the large man knocked him back, and the small man wouldn't let him balance enough to charge away. Beast had to guard Raven, but it would be easier if she had a warning. They couldn't find her asleep, if they still yelled of 'ate Raven.'
He roared when the shine-stick hit the back of his leg. They would make him go into the blackness. In the blackness, he knew what would happen. He would wake up weak- he couldn't do that. He drew back his lips, baring teeth traced with blood from a quick hunt in the woods. If they won, then it was their right to have Raven, by law of nature. Predators fought in packs to defeat other prey-eaters for food, but it was wrong. He howled a challenge, though the pale-light of the night-sky was far from the dark no-fire room the pack had forced him into.
The green-light girl flew at him, the large man's weapon-arm made the slow whine that meant it would fire, and the bird-man twirled his stick. Beast knew that he was going to lose, but that meant he could make a final hunt. He saw the three moving towards him in the dim light- until something threw them back.
"No!" Raven flew into the room, making angry arm-jerks. The pack flew away from him, controlled by Raven. He didn't chase, not yet. Raven would fight with him, and together they would not lose. She would hear the calls of "ate Raven" and know how to keep safe.
She close-opened her eyes quickly, trying to see in the dark. "I don't know who you are, but you're not going to hurt him without getting through me."
"R-Raven?" the bird-man asked.
Beast watched as Raven dropped all three attackers. She had been holding them in mid-air, using the black-magic that she was better at controlling. She was angry, but her eyes stopped their bright-glow.
"Yes, Raven," she snapped. Raven was not pleased to see her friends, for once. "You could have hurt him- for all I know, you already gave him a few wounds. I was sleeping when I heard a roar. That woke me up. When I heard a hunt-song in here, I think I broke air-speed records."
"We thought that he'd eaten you," Robin explained, fully aware of how ridiculous that sounded now. Raven had pulled back the musty curtains with a few flicks of her wrist, throwing the entire fight into sunlight. In the light, the beast's confusion was obvious.
"Why?" she asked. Raven knew any threat of danger was past, but adrenaline still quickened her pulse. She put a hand on Beast's shoulder, a silent request. She would explain soon.
No one else was talking, so that left Robin. He had been the first to attack. "Adonis spread rumors about a beast. We didn't believe him, but came here to visit you. Your room was empty, and we found bones in the fire."
Raven forced herself to calm down before she made Beast restless. "Those are from a few of his meals. He eats everything but the bones, with deer." She looked at Beast for a few moments, stroking the fur on his shoulder until he stopping making the rumbling growl she could feel, not hear. "You probably scared him, and he doesn't know most words. Beast understands me better, but that's not saying much."
"Beast?" Starfire asked.
"I've been living with him for eleven days. I think I know his name." She watched her teammates exchange uneasy looks. "What?"
"It's been thirteen days," Cyborg said. "Your father expects you to be back tomorrow, or he'll come out here to get you." Cyborg knew better than to spoil Arella's surprise.
Raven knew that they wouldn't lie. "I lost track, then."
Cyborg decided to change the subject. "Does Beast understand you? He stopped baring his teeth when you chucked us across the room, but he still doesn't look very happy."
Raven nodded. "Beast, these are my friends. They are good. They were confused." She repeated the sentences for him, letting him remember the words. He nodded when he understood, and then offered a hand to Starfire.
She glanced at Raven before coming forward. Starfire took his hand gently and murmured a Tamaranean greeting for sentient beasts. He regarded her solemnly. Starfire smiled. "He is calm with you, Raven, but not when you are in danger. We were yelling most vehemently about how 'he ate Raven.'"
"He knows 'ate,' and Beast knows me. We haven't gotten to conjugation." Raven finally felt calm enough to leave the air. Beast was relaxed, now, and she could be, too. "I don't think the Beast likes males in his territory, Cyborg and Robin, but he won't attack. He'll just make sure you're not trying anything." Raven smiled at the looks on her friends' faces. "I know, but he's a bit protective."
Cyborg had already reverted to normal hands. "I can understand that. We were pretty protective, when we couldn't find you and came in here worried. We thought something had happened to you out here."
"Adonis caused the most trouble. Adonis scratched Beast. I healed him after I drove Adonis away," Raven explained.
"A scratch?" Robin was used to under-exaggeration, from Raven.
"Okay, so I could see a rib or two. I still healed him." Raven should have known they would make a big deal out of everything.
"Raven, you get dizzy after healing bruises," Cyborg reminded her.
"He had to carry me back, but it was okay," Raven said, not at all enjoying the way that Starfire was starting to get a knowing look. "I'm coming home tomorrow, anyway. Starfire, would you help me pack?" Raven barely waited for a response before dragging Starfire off to the bedroom. She was not going to say this in front of the guys.
Raven started packing while Starfire waited a moment at the door. Beast stared at Cyborg and Robin. Robin and Cyborg stared at Beast. Starfire turned to ask Raven, but Raven anticipated the question. "If he hasn't attacked them by now, he won't," Raven said.
"You know him well."
"Would you knock off the all-knowing looks? We've lived together for two weeks," Raven snapped. She didn't quite know why she was being so defensive, but Starfire and her I-know smile would analyze meaning out of a glare.
Starfire decided to not push. "Did you always get along well with him? He seems very different."
"We had a fight, when I first came here- he roared and threw a vase, I showed off a few tricks, and then were mutually interested enough to not try killing each other. He can speak, but it hurts his throat. All he's said to me was his name, but I understand him."
"Raven, do you want to come home?"
Raven couldn't remember Starfire's perception reaching past the language gap- but in cases like this, words and nuances didn't matter. "Of course I want to go home. I just need a final day, that's all. I need to figure out how to explain that I'm leaving."
Starfire closed the latches on the suitcases. Raven had forgotten they were packing. "Do you want us to take these?" Starfire asked. She was offering a final chance, not even touching on pride.
"Yes, Starfire." Raven didn't object when Starfire took all bags. Starfire had supernatural strength, and didn't mind using it. Raven hugged Starfire before her friends left, but she never had been physically close to Cyborg and Robin- that would just unnerve the town too much, and she had to give the townspeople a break sometime. Besides their usual contact, Raven bet that Beast would not be happy. Instead, she waved to them, refusing to feel sentimental. She would be seeing her friends tomorrow, and she had told her father two weeks. That was what she would spend away from home.
Beast watched her as her lips drew into an unhappy line. He reached towards her with his hand up and tapped her shoulder with the smooth part of his claw. She looked up, and her mouth curved into a smile. She didn't make any words. Raven knew that hunts needed no words, and she rose into the air without a signal. He watched her blue shawl ripple as she moved, the only color against a drab gray dress she had found. He listened for a moment, to be sure. The last day-bird had stopped singing, so he moved from the castle. She followed, and knew to move faster when the large-eyed night-bird called a sad cry. Beast howled the hunt-song, and called the faint light of the stars and moon to the game-trail and ran faster when the light came.
She knew that this was the last time. She had promised to stay away for two weeks, and the days spent with Beast were worth anything she might have missed. It was almost time to go home- she banished the thought to morning. Raven should keep her mind on the hunt, if only so the hunt-song could sing in her dreams.
He knew she didn't hear the hunt-song. She followed, but she didn't follow changes in speed as quickly as she usually did. She had not been mad when he fought her friends. They had acted like rival-enemies, and she had not shown anger at him. She had been soft with him after throwing her friends, and had smiled when her friends took her things. He knew the hunt-song would help, if she would listen- but she worried her problem like a hurt-wound, when it could heal alone.
He stopped and caught her in one motion, careful of his claws. She didn't fight him; she only watched him in big-eyed shock. He could think of the questions. Why did she worry? What was wrong? Could he help? Instead, he found one word. He was a beast-man, and could almost remember a time when he had been weak-but-strong. "Why." He couldn't make the word-sound higher in call, but she knew it was an asking-word.
"I'm thinking- I know, a hunt isn't the best place to try to puzzle through hard topics, but it's been on my mind for a while."
She used too many words for a simple idea. She was worrying her problem, and did not want to tell him about it. She had a secret. He knew that word- secret. He might tell her his secret. He could trust Raven to not leave his castle-house when she heard. Raven had stayed longer than any others, already a half-moon. Raven made him remember all the words that his mother and father had taught him, and even a female voice that was mother. With time, he might recall his mother past den-shadows of being small.
She flew from his hand-paw. She was small enough to perch there, but she never was afraid of his size. He was scared of hers. Raven was so small- he had to be cautious every moment, to make sure that he didn't hurt her. She was strong- but so was he. Raven smiled at him and hovered at his side, half-shutting her eyes when he howled. When he ran, she stayed at his side. For this night, she wouldn't trail in his wake. She could feel the hunt-song tell her where to turn, and she followed it.
Raven wasn't tired, throughout the night. She saved each memory, but she didn't passively watch. She was a part of the night. The wind teased her shawl into rippling, the shadows ran across her face gently, and even the stifled shriek of fear from a wild boar was a part of the night. Raven didn't back away when the blood sprayed- she formed a shield, leaving the blood to the forest. Instead, she flew above the clearing. The night sky was partially shrouded in clouds, and the moon was veiled. She could have watched the clouds for hours- but Beast was ready to move, and the hunt-song thrummed in the air. This was a sort of meditation, but it let her take a sound sleep afterwards.
Raven knew that she would be able to make it back to the castle- but she needed to be able to get home. He knew what she was thinking and slowed. Raven wrapped her arms around his neck, one last time. She meant to stay awake, to watch the way back and remember the sensation of fur beneath her arms- but the warmth and feeling of being completely safe lulled her into sleep. She would miss him, when she left- the thought stayed with her as she drifted asleep, and presented itself anew when she yawned into semi-consciousness. She never had understood morning people- she needed a cup of tea before she felt halfway alive, most days.
She was in the orchard, and an apple neatly cut from the tree, branch and all, was at her side. She took it with a smile. Despite her misgivings, she hadn't had time to tire of apples. Beast had brought her rabbits and small game-birds frequently, and Raven had managed to cook them with a few spices tucked away in cabinets. She finished the fruit before steeling herself to her next task. She stood slowly, and recognized the delaying tactic for what it was. She didn't want to do this.
She found him in the great-hall. "Beast, I'm leaving," she said with no preamble. There was no kindness in saying polite things. He wouldn't understand.
He didn't know why she was unhappy. She had been happy to see her friends, even if they had taken her books with them, and she had liked the hunt. He made his best question-face. Even the one syllable of "why" hurt his throat.
"I know that I'll miss you- I'll come back to visit, more likely than not."
Miss- like when he pounced the wrong way during a hunt. Back- that was the place that predators aimed for, in a hunt. Miss you I come back- that was not a word-pattern he recognized. She had failed a hunt? Maybe she wanted to hunt, next time, or had gone on her own- she was a predator, and was learning old instincts.
"I need to go home."
She didn't look happy- maybe she thought she should have hunted. Home- that was with Raven. But- go? Did she have to make a run to go home?
"I'm sorry."
Sorry- but that meant she had done something wrong. She missed a hunt? Maybe she had wished to pounce, or she had found another hunt-trail that he had missed.
"I know you don't understand, but I can't think of another way to say goodbye."
Can't and good- Raven couldn't feel good after a missed-hung. He held out a hand, claws curled in. Did she want to hunt?
"No, Beast."
No was a strong word, but she wasn't angry. She was close to making salted-water drops with her eyes, but she wasn't going to yell. Raven was sad, and she wouldn't let him make her feel better. She watched the door, even when he tried to look at her eyes. Humans believed that eyes would show emotion- and he knew they would. She was hiding what she felt from him.
"Goodbye, Beast."
He knew what good meant, and that she was talking to him. He was Beast, even if he couldn't make her word-sounds very well. But- what was 'bye? He watched her back away. Raven was in the doorway before he stepped forward- and then she flew. She flew into a shimmering shape of blackness that almost looked like a bird-shadow, and she was gone, streaking over the woods. He howled a call after her. He knew words wouldn't be enough- but maybe the hunt could draw her back again.
By the time darkness had fallen, his voice was hoarse and he didn't have the energy to go for a hunt. The next day, after Raven had been on her own hunt and came back to the castle-house, he would take her to see the larger prey- or maybe let her hunt deer, if she wanted. He had made some mistake in courting the female, but she would return. She had to. Who else would help him remember?
Raven stumbled in front of her house, tearing herself from a blur of dark energy. She had never done that before- but it was faster than walking. If it occurred to her that she hadn't left a trail for Beast to follow, the thought slipped from her mind after a little careful deletion. She opened the front door and slipped inside before any idiot in the otherwise English-speaking town could say "bonjour" to her several dozen times. She did not like morning people.
She closed the door behind her, listened carefully to make sure she didn't hear anyone trying at being bilingual, and then froze. She blinked a few times, to make sure she wasn't delusional. Her father had always kept the house a bit- dark, one might say. Raven doubted that it was the most healthy environment to be raised in, but the brimstone incense kept even Jehovah's Witnesses from staying long and amusing her father with Biblical anecdotes. Trigon liked listening to religious zealots. They made him laugh.
Raven's attention quickly caught and dismissed several new features. The textured walls with many layers of brown had been scrubbed down to smooth plaster and painted a delicate shade of cream. The rack that her father had hung coats on (an actual rack from the Spanish Inquisition that he liked to show to any overly persistent salespeople) was gone, replaced by an actual coat-rack. The chairs were all new, and Raven would bet none of these had a few traps cleverly disguised in the cushions. All of these details paled in comparison to one horrible fact, even after seeing her father's occult books supported by two tasteful bookends of graceful sculpture.
"There is a doily on the basin-table." Rachel stared at it. The basin-table was an artifact from hell- literally. The marble piece of furniture had a bowl cut directly into the stand, with a few channels cut into the edges of the basin to slowly drip fluids down carvings. Her father always had claimed that it was 'for blood,' which fit the gruesome detail work in the sculpture, but Raven had never seen anything more gruesome than home-brewed moonshine guaranteed to kill most mortals.
"That is the only doily in the house. I'm trying to convince your father to at least move that thing downstairs, next to the rack he refuses to burn, and he's very close to snapping. I must admit that I'm impressed- he's lasted three days with that doily in his sitting room."
Raven found the source of the voice. "Mother?"
"Don't be all formal with me, daughter." Arella smiled fondly at her daughter. "I know I was in Azarath, but that was a temporary measure. Your father and I agreed long ago that only one of us could raise you. It was either let him take care of it, or have you shipped off to Azarath where you'd be trained to repress your emotions and never feel that anyone really cared for you, and then your father would have to probably go through with the prophecy of using you as a portal because the custody exemption wouldn't have nullified all the claims, and the world would be in danger and it would be very hard for you to relate to people and then you'd have all kinds of psychiatry bills later in life, assuming you ever would admit you could use someone to listen."
Raven blinked. "Mom? Did they teach you how to talk without breathing in this Azarath place? You didn't turn colors when your sentence ran a marathon."
Arella laughed. "No, just some advanced meditation and such, being attuned to emotions- and you're dead tired. Your father says that you've chosen to go with emotions instead of power- that'll make you happier in the long run, maybe." She decided to skip the usual speeches reserved for a mother-meets-daughter-again occasion and go straight for something useful. "Let's put you to bed- it might be the afternoon, but I think you'll manage sleeping for a good long while."
Arella eased her daughter out of her shawl, leaving the dark blue garment draped over a chair. She gave the gray dress her daughter wore a quick glance- there were twigs caught in the hem, and Raven could use a few alterations in the fit. That could wait a few minutes. Arella brought Raven through a dark room, muttering when they almost tipped over an overly fancy hand mirror her father had undoubtedly brought with him. "Good night, Raven."
Raven was too sleepy to protest such an early time to retreat to bed. There was no reason to stay awake. Her mother would still be home, her father would still know that Raven had kept her word. Her arms snaked around the pillow as she slept, and Raven didn't know that she frowned through her dreams when her hands felt cotton sheets instead of fur. The frown faded through the night, when the hunt-song rang through her dreams- but the wild call faded, and she woke with a start when she could feel it slipping away completely.
Raven looked around for a desperate second before she recognized her own room. She ignored a heart-jabbing moment of disappointment. She was home. It was with this attitude that she stomped over to her closet, only to stop beside the black silk dress. Her mother had left a quick note- the dress had been altered to fit her, and the dresses that had been jammed in a suitcase were airing out. Raven slipped into the dress, not surprised when it fit. Arella was a firm believer in getting details right.
Raven floated down the staircase. It was easier than wondering if her mother had convinced her father to fix the squealing stairs, and took almost no effort. She glanced into the kitchen from the relatively safe vantage point of the doorway from the dining room. If her father was preparing an old family recipe, she would only have to move about ten steps to reach the compost heap and deposit any old meals that desired expulsion. When she didn't see any red spatters on blue walls, she stepped inside. Her father was baking.
"Cinnamon rolls?" Raven asked, trying to guess why her father was baking pastry. It was morning- she had slept straight through the night, then.
"You sound disappointed," he said with a grin. Raven didn't begin to hope at his odd teeth. The smile she wanted to see belonged to a green man, and her father was red. "It's about time you woke up- you were out for a day and a half. Your friends brought your bags back without you and mentioned that you were staying with a friend."
"The friend was a man, father." Raven moved closer. Her father had a long roll of dough with cinnamon and sugar, and was moving his knife carefully.
"Did he hurt you?" Trigon asked, pausing in preparations.
"Never, not at all," Raven told him, so sadly that he knew she wasn't lying. "I left him."
"Does he have a name?" Trigon asked evenly, slicing a new roll and putting it in the pan. As Arella had explained, greased pans worked much better in ovens.
"He's not a man. He's Beast, and people always seem to assume the worst about him- and I need to see him again."
"You're having a proper meal, first. Your mother actually cleared out that chicken coop out back and put in hens. Two brave ones even started laying- she just takes a while to get the eggs. Your mother is afraid of chickens, but she's going to 'get over it' by terrifying herself just to get breakfast. Of course, it's probably better- the chickens do not like me," Trigon said blithely, waiting for a laugh. He did get one, but she was still distracted.
Arella bustled in from the backyard, a triumphant smile on her face. "I only dropped one egg today, the rooster didn't charge after me, and I remembered the basket." Arella liked the simpler things in life, and adored larger joys- like when Trigon had relented the previous evening and taken the horrible blood-pedestal-thing to his lair in the basement. "Raven, that dress fits you- good. Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes- until then, you can chat with your parents. As soon as you eat, don't worry about the dishes- just go after whatever boy you're mooning about."
Raven smiled, and didn't rue the true laugh her mother had startled out of her. With an intergalactic traveler and a demon for parents, it didn't matter if she was expected to stay in town. She had come back to visit her parents, and they could be introduced to Beast in a few days, after she had time to settle in. Beast had a few books she could borrow- she didn't need luggage to go back home. Nontraditional relationships could work out- her parents were happy, finally, and it had just taken Arella a few years to realize what she wanted and for Trigon to realize who he needed. Raven left, full of breakfast, her favorite blue shawl draped over an arm. She was going to end this fairy tale happily, even if she did have to fight off entire the mobs of pitchfork- and torch-bearing folk herself. Who needed a fairy godmother? Raven would take care of her problems without any meddlers helping.